Swimming Lessons
by elbcw
Summary: 'Aramis had not meant for this happen. Of course, he had not meant for this to happen. He watched in shock as Porthos disappeared under the water. As his friend was falling there was only one thing rushing around in Aramis' mind:- Porthos could not swim.' An accident causes more problems than it should.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: This is a quick one I bashed out over a couple of days when I was getting annoyed with a far longer story I was writing. It is a bit of nonsense really, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've read a few good fanfics involving one or other of them not being able to swim, this is mine. (I'm not a very good swimmer either, so this might not be terribly accurate!).

Swimming Lessons

Chapter One

'Porthos cannot swim…'

The camp was clearly abandoned. A burnt-out fire in the centre of the clearing was cold. There was evidence of a meal having been eaten, a few discarded bones lay dotted about. The earth was scuffed up in places, and multiple shoe prints and hoof prints were still visible in the soft muddy areas.

'Well that was a waste of time,' said Porthos as he glanced around again.

Aramis smirked at him, 'it got us out of guard duty for a day…that is never a waste of time.'

'Very true.'

They had been despatched that morning to investigate a report of bandits in an area a couple of hours ride from Paris. All they were required to do was scout the area, if the bandits were there they would return to Paris for reinforcements. A simple task, but Porthos had been glad of it. It was hot and standing in the sun all day did not appeal to him. As it was they were feeling the heat even in the relative cool of the wooded area they now stood.

'We might as well get back,' Aramis said turning to go, noting that Porthos was already on his way.

They had left the horses on the other side of a river. The rickety wooden bridge, that spanned the water, would probably not have appealed to them. The river was not fast flowing but it was too deep in the centre to bring the horses through it.

'Are you still teaching d'Artagnan how to cheat at cards?' asked Aramis as they reached the step up to the bridge.

'It's not cheatin' it's reading people, it's a fine art,' replied Porthos with mock shock at the accusation. For good measure, he gave Aramis a shove on the arm to underline his feigned annoyance.

Aramis shoved him back, a little harder, causing the musketeer to take a step to the side. He reached out to steady himself on the hand rail along the edge of the bridge. The wood of the barrier, rotten with age and lack of maintenance crumbled under his hand. His could not stop his sideways momentum and found himself falling off the side of the bridge.

The last thing he heard before hitting the water was Aramis shouting his name in alarm.

MMMM

'Porthos!' yelled Aramis as his friend fell.

Aramis had not meant for this happen. Of course, he had not meant for this to happen. He watched in shock as Porthos disappeared under the water. As his friend was falling there was only one thing rushing around in Aramis' mind.

Porthos could not swim.

He would probably be able to haul himself out of a pond were he to fall in but this was a river, with a bit of a current. And he was wearing his uniform, the leather doublet would be heavy, not to mention his weapons. His friend might not even be able to get back up to the surface.

All this whirled around in Aramis' head as he rushed to the other bank, taking off his own weapons belt and doublet as he went. He watched the water intently as he pulled off his boots. Porthos could not have been swept far. As if on cue, the big musketeer broke the surface with a splash. His arms uncoordinated, a look of sheer terror on his face. He was clearly panicking.

Aramis rushed forward into the water, the bank giving way to deep water within a few feet. It only took him a couple of strokes to reach his friend. Porthos was wildly thrashing about. Aramis tried to grab him but was knocked away.

'Porthos!' he shouted, 'you have to calm down, I can get you out,' his words were drowned out by the noise his friend was making flailing around.

Aramis managed to grab his friend, he clung on tightly, trying to offer reassurance by his mere presence. But Porthos continued to struggle. They both sank under the water. Aramis managed to take a quick breath as they went. A tangle of limbs, they floated down to the bed of the river. Aramis managed to push off, propelling them back up to the surface. As they rose he realised his wrist had become caught under Porthos' weapon belt. He could not free himself. He could feel himself beginning to panic, he had to push the feeling away.

They broke the surface, Aramis took a gulp of air. Porthos was still struggling, one of his flailing hands smacked Aramis in the face, making him reel for a few seconds. If Porthos carried on struggling, which Aramis was sure he would, the chances where they would both drown. Aramis pulled at his trapped wrist but could not get away.

They sank again. Aramis wondered if Porthos would just tire himself out. He did not think they could wait that long. They hit the bottom of the river, again Aramis pushed off upwards.

As they broke the surface, Aramis did the only thing he could think off. He punched Porthos hard to the face.

The effect was instant, Aramis did not think he had knocked his friend out, but he went limp. Aramis seized the opportunity and pulled them towards the bank. He pushed Porthos ahead of him. The musketeer had regained enough composure to pull himself far enough out of the water to be safe. Aramis managed to disentangle himself from Porthos as he hauled himself out. He sprawled on the bank of the river face down breathing hard. He did not have the strength to turn over onto his back.

MMMM

Every breath felt like nectar. When he had been in the water, each time he dared to take a breath it had been tainted with splashes of water. Each time he had sunk down he had not had time to take a breath and his lungs had screamed for air. Time had slowed down, but he had felt utterly useless, he could not think what to do and could not coordinate himself. He had been aware of Aramis but could not react.

Now on the bank of the river all he could do was breathe. There was no other activity. Just breathing was enough. He had rolled onto his side, his shoulders heaving each time he breathed in. He realised he had his eyes screwed shut. He opened them.

Aramis was lying next to him, also breathing hard. He was lying on his front his head turned away. Porthos realised what his friend had done. Saved him. He also realised Aramis was bleeding. His hand was covered with blood.

'Your…hand…bleeding…'

Aramis did not respond to Porthos' gasped statement.

'Ara…mis?'

It was another few minutes before Aramis found the strength to turn his head, he looked at his hand. His eyes refocused on Porthos.

'I got tangled up…with your belt. Must have caught it…on the buckle,' he said as his breathing began to ease.

'Sorry.'

Aramis managed a smile, 'not your fault…accident.'

Porthos was breathing, more or less, normally by this time. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. Aramis went to do the same but winced when he tried to use his injured hand for support. Porthos shuffled over to his side and helped him to turn over and sit up. He held up Aramis injured right hand for inspection. A long straight cut across the back of the hand, it was still bleeding.

'You're going to have to stitch it,' said Aramis with a frown.

'But you don't like my stitching.'

'I can't stitch one handed, not with my left hand.'

Porthos nodded conceding the point. He felt weak from his unexpected misadventure in the river, but he knew that Aramis needed his help.

'Sorry I pushed you,' said Aramis suddenly.

'You weren't to know I would fall in,' replied Porthos as he struggled to his feet, 'I really should learn to swim.'

'Yes, you should,' said Aramis as he allowed Porthos to help him up.

They scrambled back up the bank and to safety. They had drifted a little down the river so had to walk back a few hundred metres to find Aramis' things. It was a slow shaky walk for them both.

MMMM

Despite the warm weather they were both shivering by the time they reached the horses. Porthos wrapped Aramis' hand in a bandage to try and stem the blood flow whilst they stripped off their soaked clothes. They could only hope they would dry quick enough to prevent a soggy ride back to Paris. They were only meant to be out for a few hours so had not brought much with them, and no change of clothes.

Wrapped up in their cloaks they sat in the sunshine whilst Aramis sorted out what he would need to clean and stitch his hand.

'I'll teach you, if you want,' he said as he unwrapped the temporary bandage Porthos had put on earlier.

'What?'

'To swim.'

Porthos did not respond, he was busy trying to thread the needle, and failing. Aramis took it off him and even with a slight shake of his injured hand managed to thread it on the second attempt. He handed the now threaded needle back.

'Only us two. I know it's nothin' to be ashamed of. Not being able to swim, but I'd still rather do it in private.'

Aramis could understand what he meant. He imagined there were not many soldiers who could not swim.

'You taught me how to take a punch, it's the least I can do.'

Porthos grinned saying, 'you give 'em pretty well too.'

'Sorry about that, but you would've drowned us both if I hadn't hit you.'

Aramis paused whilst he washed the wound, wincing as he sloshed alcohol over it. Satisfied that it was clean he held up his hand ready for Porthos to start the stitching. Normally when he received stitched he would clench his fists in an attempt to keep still, but he could not do that this time. He noticed Porthos eyeing him warily.

'I'll be fine,' he said, although he was not sure.

He used his bent knee to rest his hand on and took a steadying breath. He had to use all his will power not to move his right hand away as the first stitch went in. By the time the last stitch was tied off, he was sweating and breathing quickly. Porthos was looking at him concerned, despite his best effort to hide the pain he was in.

'I'm fine…it's fine,' he managed to say shakily.

Porthos mumbled something incoherently as he started to wrap a fresh bandage around the injury. Once he was finished he put a reassuring hand on Aramis' shoulder. It was clear Porthos thought he was going to pass out. Once certain his friend was not going to keel over, Porthos rose and wandered over to their clothes.

'Dry enough,' he called, 'my jacket is still wet though.'

He grabbed Aramis' clothes and brought them back to him. He handed them over and looked at him quizzically.

'I think I can dress myself,' Aramis answered the unasked question.

It was not easy as his hand hurt, even more so now the stitches were in place, but he managed to struggle into most of his clothes. As he pulled his doublet on he realised he could not do the buckles up, his fingers would not coordinate with enough dexterity yet. Porthos was in front of him and batting his hands away. Aramis sighed and allowed his friend to do up his jacket.

'Good as new,' said Porthos with a smirk smoothing down the leather.

'Thank you,' replied the marksman with a gracious nod.

After repacking his saddle bags, Aramis paused by his horse. Mounting up was going to hurt his hand. He turned to ask for help, only to find Porthos already standing next to him.

'Can you read minds?'

'Only yours, and it had occurred to me you might need a hand…seein' as I managed to damage yours.'

After helping him up, Porthos climbed onto his own horse. They fell into step beside each other.

'Once this has healed,' said Aramis holding up his bandaged hand, 'we'll find somewhere secluded and I will teach you. Then I won't need to rescue you again.'

'Yes, I'd like to avoid getting punched by you again if I can,' retorted Porthos as they headed back to Paris.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

'…and why Aramis is not going to teach him.'

It was a few weeks later when the opportunity to take a few hours away from the garrison arrived. It was still warm, the summer sun blazing brightly. They trotted along in companionable silence, although Aramis suspected Porthos was a little nervous.

'The lake we are going to, it's shallow around the edge for several meters. You'll still be able to stand, and there are rocks dotted about which are handy if you wanted the reassurance of something solid to hold onto.'

Porthos nodded thoughtfully before saying, 'how did you learn? Did someone teach you?'

'Some of the older boys I used to hang around with threw me in a river when I was young,' Aramis shuddered at the memory, 'I nearly drowned…my father taught me after that.'

They carried on in silence for a few more minutes before the lake came into view. Aramis glanced across at Porthos who was admiring the view.

'Lovely isn't it,' he said.

'Beautiful,' replied Porthos.

The lake was calm, barely a ripple broke the surface of the clear water. They dismounted and stood for a few minutes taking in the view. Aramis started stripping off and looked over at Porthos who had not moved.

'Take your time, if you don't want to, we can try again another day.'

He was conscious of the big man's worry, and did not want to push the issue. They had both nearly drowned in their previous encounter with water. Once he was down to his braies he walked forward to the water's edge. He looked across to the rocks.

'I'll be over there,' he pointed at one of the rocks a few meters away, 'it's really not very deep up to that point, after that it gets deeper, but we don't need to go any further. The water won't come above your waist.'

He wanted to offer as much reassurance as he could, but equally did not want to molly coddle his friend. He started walking out, splashing through the cool water. He looked back at Porthos when he was about half way across, pleased to see him busy stripping off.

Aramis reached the rock he had been aiming at and climbed up onto it, he managed to find a smooth spot to sit on. The rock was more jagged than he had been expecting, but he was soon settled. He looked around to see Porthos just starting to walk across.

Porthos paused at the water's edge for a moment, a look of determination on his face. He took a few steps forward then took a deep shocked breath.

'Sorry, it's colder than it looks,' called Aramis with a laugh.

Porthos glared at him, 'I know that now.'

The musketeer continued to walk forward, up to his knees in the water now. Aramis was pleased that Porthos was keen to overcome his worry. The man was not particularly afraid of the water, but was apprehensive.

When Porthos was a few meters from him and up to his thighs in the water, Aramis decided to join him in the water. He stood up and was about to step down when the surface under his foot crumbled causing him to slip forward scraping his calf along the sharp rock painfully. The movement left him flailing his arms to regain his balance. He toppled backwards. The last thing he knew was an intense pain in the back of his head.

MMMM

'Aramis!' yelled Porthos as his friend fell.

Without even thinking he rushed forward, splashing through the water. Aramis had fallen into the calm water in front of the rock, he was lying face up, but still, floating silently buffeted by the disturbance in the water caused by Porthos' approach. He was clearly unconscious. Porthos had to reach him quickly or he would drown.

Porthos stopped a metres away from Aramis. He realised with horror that in the few seconds it had taken him to reach the spot, Aramis was floating right on the edge of the deeper part of the lake. The water was clear enough that he could see the drop off point. Porthos took a steadying breath, he tentatively took a step forward. He could still feel solid ground beneath him. He leaned forward and managed to grasp the unconscious musketeer's fingers.

Porthos was forced to take another step forward in order to get a solid grip on his friend. As his foot found the lake bed again he pulled Aramis closer to him. Aramis showed no sign of waking up. Porthos was glad his friend remained still, he would no doubt move suddenly if he were to wake and probably pull them both towards the deeper part of the lake where Porthos would struggled to help him and probably put them both in further danger.

Porthos was chest deep in the water, as he reached his arm under Aramis, to get a better hold. The slight backwards momentum caused the rock under his foot to shift. He lost his footing and splashed backwards. He let go of Aramis as he fell.

He desperately tried to find the lake bed. He knew he would be able to stand, but the buoyancy of the water made it difficult for him to regain his footing. At the same time he was reaching out for Aramis, who was now a meter away again. The fear of finding himself out of his depth played heavily on his mind. The near drowning a few weeks ago fresh in his mind.

Porthos decided grabbing Aramis was more important than standing. He somehow managed to lunge forward enough to hook his hand under the marksman's arm. He found the forward movement of the act pushed his legs down enough to reach the rocky lake bed.

Once firmly anchored he remained where he was for a few second, concentrating on getting his breathing into some state of normality. Aramis had not stirred. Porthos felt the back of the unconscious man's head, there was a bump but no blood. He was bleeding from a cut to his leg and one to his forearm, no doubt caused by his initial fall.

Slowly Porthos worked up the courage to make his way to the shore. Survival instincts replacing or repressing his initial fear.

Porthos dragged his friend with him, it took him sometime and he did not have the strength to carry him. He silently apologised to Aramis as his legs and feet were knocked by the small rocks that littered the shoreline.

MMMM

Once he had reached dry land Porthos laid his friend down. Aramis was breathing steadily but still unconscious. Porthos checked him for any other injuries. He was covered in cuts and scrapes and would no doubt develop plenty of bruises, but the cuts to his forearm and calf were the most serious. Both were bleeding and would need stitching and Porthos doubted Aramis would be able to stitch either himself.

After making Aramis as comfortable as he could and covering him with a cloak he quickly redressed. He hoped that his friend would remain unconscious, at least long enough for him to do the stitching in peace. He pushed Aramis onto his side so that he could get at the injury to the man's calf. The cut was longer than he had originally thought and took quite a few stitches to close. Once stitched he rocked back on his heels and admired what, for him, were fairly neat stitches. Clearly having a non-complaining patient made for a better working environment.

As he finished wrapping a bandage around Aramis' leg the wounded man finally stirred. Porthos laid his hand on Aramis' shoulder to stop him moving too much.

'What happened?' slurred the confused musketeer.

'It was your turn to fall in.'

Aramis looked at him confused, then he winced in pain, reaching up to feel the back of his head. He tried to sit up, Porthos helped him. Aramis looked at his leg seeing the bandage.

'Nasty cut on your calf, I stitched it,' said Porthos by way of explanation, 'I've still got to do the one on your arm.'

Aramis lifted his arm and looked at it confused.

'The other one.'

'Oh,' said Aramis as he examined his left forearm, the cut was still bleeding, blood staining the temporary bandage Porthos had wrapped around it. Porthos noted how pale his friend was and the slight shake in his arm as he held it up.

'I'll help you get dressed first, you're cold.'

Aramis nodded but stayed where he was. Porthos collected the marksman's clothes and between them they managed to get him dressed. Porthos put a cloak around Aramis' shoulders when they were done.

Aramis had been quiet for a while looking at Porthos. He finally said, 'how far did you have to go…to pull me out of the water?'

Porthos swallowed, not really wanting to relive the memory, 'far enough,' was the only reply he could give.

'Thank you,' said Aramis, looking away.

Porthos readied himself for his second stitching session. He was about to start when Aramis spoke again.

'I could probably do that myself,' he said.

Porthos looked at him, his face serious, 'Aramis, you have been unconscious for a while, you've lost some blood and you're cold...you're still shaking…do you honestly think you can do a better job than me at the moment?'

Aramis thought for a moment, Porthos could tell he was still a bit unfocused from his head injury. His friend shook his head and looked at Porthos with a smile.

'You're right.'

He held out his arm. Porthos began stitching. The cut not as serious as the one on his calf did not take long to deal with, although he did have to stop occasionally when Aramis showed signs of passing out. As he finished bandaging his friends arm Aramis said.

'I'm not going to teach you to swim.'

Porthos was a bit shocked at the sudden statement.

'Why? You're the one who offered, you said it would be a good idea.'

'It might be for you…but every time I get in the water with you, I need stitches.'

Aramis smiled at him, Porthos laughed.

The End.


End file.
